Parents are always the last to know
by Hetep-Heres
Summary: You know the saying : "parents are always the last to know". And in Lord and Lady Grantham's case, it's particularly true. They are so unperceptive and unobservant that they are always unaware of what's going on under their own roof, or within their own family. I'll try to write a series of ficlets about that.
1. July 1914

**July 1914**

A baby.  
A surprise.  
A _beautiful_ surprise.  
A _wonderful_ surprise.

And possibly a new solution to their problem. A possibility that…  
Well, the odds were one in two.

But a big surprise anyway.

Still… there were old. Too old for that anyway, he believed. And yet…

He thought that Cora… well, he did NOT want to think about... those… _things_. He was a man, and there were just some subjects he wasn't comfortable with.

His child wasn't born yet, and he already had grey hair, for God's sake! How old will they be by the time they'll have to find a spouse for their youngest? Will then people mistake them for his grandparents?

Lord Grantham looked at his wife, and found she was radiant. Probably the most beautiful woman on earth, he thought.

And they were going to become parents once more. And who knows, this time… possibly… a son? An _heir_? Well, he did already think that back then – all these years ago – about Sybil, he did not want to set his hopes too high. And now nearly twenty years later he wouldn't trade any of his three daughters for an unknown and faceless son.

Anyway, even if it meant one more daughter to marry off, this baby would be a great happiness.

"We can consider ourselves lucky that our child won't have a niece or nephew older than himself…" he told his wife in a chuckle.

And then, Cora suddenly remembered the "Turkish incident".

_Yes darling, very lucky, indeed._


	2. Early 1919 - The morning after

**Early 1919 - The "morning after"**

"Good morning, Branson" Lord Grantham told him in an even, every-day-like tone.

Why did they all have to wish him a _good_ morning, today? This morning was certainly anything but good. It could have been. It _should_ have been. He should be getting married right now, maybe even already _be_ married, if they had had an early start…

But no. Her sisters had to come and get her. Snatching his dream from him, when he finally had it at his fingertips. The previous night had been a fall from brushing the sky to sinking deep down in a grave of loneliness and dashed hopes.

A very _bad_ morning indeed.

But maybe they were right? Maybe Sybil couldn't be completely happy with the bitter thought of having left like a thief? She would rather be the kind to prefer standing for her ground and fighting for her cause, sooner than running off as if she did something bad…

And choosing him was _not_ bad. So of course, she'll want to make her family understand that. He was much calmer now than last night. He was beginning to see the whole thing trough her eyes. She did not want to fall out with her parents: there was nothing wrong in that either. Yes, he could understand that. But still… They could be _married_ by now, for god's sake! They could be on their way to their new life!

Today should have been the day of his wedding. Finally! But no. Instead of that, he was back to square one. Downton Abbey. Driving Lord Grantham here and there. Hiding his deep feelings for his daughter.

"Good morning, Your Lordship" he answered through gritted teeth.

The man who should be by now his father-in-law got into the car and Branson then shut the door closed, his knuckles white from clenching the handle.

* * *

Branson was less than talkative today, Lord Grantham thought. Plus, he was looking drawn, with those hollow and bleary eyes. And quite slumpy. Yes, Branson did look a bit tired, today. Short night, maybe?

Well, after all, Lord Grantham himself had been a twenty-something, too… That much he could relate to. But if it was because of a woman, the lad would better keep it very low key: Lord Grantham wouldn't want any of Downton Abbey's staff members to become a topic of local idle gossip. The House's reputation was at stake, there.

As long as Branson was being discreet about his affairs, Lord Grantham would certainly not chastise him. Unless it interfered with his duty. And, well, right now, Branson did not seem to be on top capacity: maybe his employer should remind him he had to keep up with Downton Abbey's standards, and to live up to the family's expectations.

Yes, Lord Grantham had been young. He remembered what that period of his life was like… And then he got married, and settled down.

He couldn't ask the lad to live like a monk. As long as his chauffeur wasn't tomcatting around or didn't tarnish some village girl's reputation, Robert would turn a blind eye on his driver's amorous life. And if one day Branson became serious about a woman, Lord Grantham – and probably even more Carson – would see to making sure that the boy did _the right thing_. And _more so_ if he was _not_ serious about the girl and did not plan to get married.

_Wedding bells…_

This brought another thought to Robert's mind. _Matthew_. And Lavinia. And the posterity they would now be able to give to the Grantham lineage.

_Wedding bells…_

— Isn't that thrilling, Branson ? We are going to have a wedding in the family. We haven't had one in… well… more than two decades. Nearly three.

The driver's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel, while his grip on it tightened.

Lord Grantham didn't seem to notice the tension in his chauffeur, and went on:

— Do you plan to ever get married, Branson?

This time, the car swerved.


End file.
